Supernatural Study Group
by Trickster-Prophet
Summary: Highschool!AU - It's exam time for everyone...and no-one's enjoying it.
1. Blanket Forts and Highliters

**A/N: This fic is set in an AU where John dies in the housefire as well, and Bobby raises the Boys. Cas and Gabe's family live nextdoor and all the kids go to the local highschool.**

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The weeks leading up to exams are always hectic. This year however, they seem to have gotten even worse. Gabriel and Castiel are over, since their older brother Lucifer is having a fight with their dad (again) and all the younger siblings have conveniently got somewhere else to be. Bobby doesn't mind them being there; they're both good kids, even if he sometimes wonders whether Gabriel is a bit old for Sam (it is a three-year age gap after all) and honestly, the kid drives him nuts with his pranks and constant attitude, but he's not blind, he's seen the way Sam looks at Gabriel. So he just sighs, looks the other way and hopes to hell that Sam knows what he's doing.

What Sam is currently doing is sitting in the middle of the lounge-room, textbooks, notes and highlighter pens strewn around him. Gabriel has constructed an elaborate blanket-fort around him, and is flopped down next to him, nose in a book, lollipop stick poking out of the side of his mouth. At the kitchen table, Castiel and Dean are revising French verbs together, laughing at each other's foolish mistakes and gazing adoringly at each other when they think no-one's watching. It's a comfortable, domestic setting.

Tomorrow, Sam and Castiel have their first exams, followed by Dean and Gabriel starting theirs the next day. The whole house will be turned into a chaotic scene, filled with more notes, textbooks and highlighter pens than should be possible, people going to and from exams at odd hours, studying into the night and ignoring fixed mealtimes. The stress permeates the whole house at times like these, and Bobby once again finds himself fiercely grateful that exams only come around twice a year.


	2. 7:40AM

It's 7:40am when Gabriel turned up next to Sam in the kitchen, looking way to perky for someone who had been up all hours not studying. Sam took one look at his boyfriend's self-satisfied grin, groaned and faceplanted dramatically into his history textbook. Gabriel snorted a laugh, before looking around hopefully in search of coffee.  
"I hate you." Sam mumbled from his book. Gabriel laughed.  
"You even look in the mirror yet?" He teased back, running a hand through Sam's hair affectionately.  
"Don't need to." Sam complained, rubbing self-consciously at his neck, which was decorated with a brilliant display of hickeys, courtesy of Gabriel the previous night.  
Bobby, standing at the stove cooking bacon and eggs, rolled his eyes. Clearly, letting Gabriel stay the night in Sam's room had been a mistake.

Dean sulked into the kitchen at 7:48, still in his pyjamas and with Castiel trailing after him already fully dressed and noticeably brighter. They joined Sam at the kitchen table, Dean making a jibe at Sam about having his books at the table. Sam shot back a comment about Dean not studying at all. Castiel looked on silently, a small smile crossing his lips.  
Bobby placed plates of breakfast in front of them, as well as coffee in front of all but Castiel, who got tea instead, then seated himself at the table. They ate and talked, although not at the same time – one of the things Bobby was strict on was table manners – and for a moment they could all forget about the impending exams set up to ruin their weeks.


	3. Hypocrite

Sam kicked off his shoes on the porch and shoved open the door. Castiel followed him inside quietly, leaving his shoes neatly, side by side, on the shoe rack. Sam dropped his backpack in the hall and slouched into the lounge room, where Dean and Gabriel are watching TV, snarking at each other like only they can. He flopped down in the armchair, and smiled when Gabriel crossed the room to sit in his lap.

"How did it go?" His boyfriend asked, after kissing Sam hello.

"Ugh," Sam complained, expressing his opinion of the exam as eloquently as he felt was necessary.

"Aw," Gabriel ruffled Sam's hair teasingly, "Poor Sammich." He kissed Sam again, just as Dean looked around at them.

"Gross!" The older Winchester complained.

"Like you and Cassie are any better." Gabriel shot back, draping an arm around Sam's neck.

"That isn't my name." Castiel pointed out, seating himself on the floor beside Dean, who promptly leant over and kissed him in the cheek, the hypocrite.

In the next few minutes, Sam tried to get the TV remote away from Gabriel – "Seriously Gabe, you should be studying!" – Castiel vanished into the kitchen to try and make lunch, and Bobby arrived home from the store. He looked around the room, saw Sam and Gabriel tussling over the remote, Dean in the process of hiding all of Castiel's books and pencils and heard the smoke alarm going off in the kitchen.

"Ah, hell!" He muttered. Exams needed to be getting to everyone already. And this was only day one.


	4. Sunday Morning

The house was, for the most part, quiet. The clock in the kitchen ticked softly, but the only other sound in the house was the scribbling of pencils and the occasional rustling as sheets of paper were moved across the kitchen table or passed from person to person.

Sam, Dean, Gabriel and Castiel were seated around said table, papers and pens strewn around them, all working on the same thing; maths notes. Sam's notes were neatly laid out in blue pen with rules lines between the formulas and diagrams. Deans were a little messier, scribbled across the page but ultimately still readable. Castiel's were writing in the tiniest handwriting possible, squished together onto the page for maximum efficiency. Gabriel's notes were a mess of colours. He'd written them in about eight different pens, including one that was pink, and sparkly.

After another fifteen minutes, Sam dropped his pen onto the table and said triumphantly "Done!".

Right away, Dean reached for the pages, intending to copy them for his own notes. Sam whisked them away, out of his reach. "Nope." He told Dean firmly, "My notes. Should have paid attention in class."

Dean just glared mutely at him and turned back to his notes, scribbling madly.

Sam looked at the clock, which told him that it was about 9:30 in the morning, which was a suitable time for breakfast. Actually it was a suitable time for getting out of bed on a Sunday, but somehow they had all turned up in the kitchen at the same time had ended up working on maths notes before even eating.

"Okay," Sam said, "Who wants breakfast?"

Judging by the volume of the others' cries of 'me', everyone did. Sam smiled and set about cooking.


End file.
